


Horizons

by meanderingsoul



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Afterlife, Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cybernetics, Episode Tag, F/M, Friendship/Love, Gen, Identity, Introspection, Season/Series 06, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-31 11:02:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20114044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meanderingsoul/pseuds/meanderingsoul
Summary: It was like he’d been asleep. Like he’d been in a coma or something, the same way he’d felt out of step thinking he’d been in one for a few months after New York. It was even less true now than it had been then.





	Horizons

**Author's Note:**

> So. That finale. I'm still personally at a loss for words and very psyched for season seven and all the directions they could take. Obviously there are spoilers for 6x12 and 6x13 in this fic.
> 
> Enjoy.

This wasn’t as weird as it should be.

Ok. Parts of it were, just not the parts he’d expected before.

It wasn’t like his hand had been. This body _felt_, didn’t feel much different at all so far. His shirt was crisp and these shoes didn’t quite sit right on his feet yet and the room was a little warm.

But Phil had noticed some things sitting here. His feet weren’t getting new-shoes blisters. His back didn’t hurt from the chair. Breathing was a little different, the feel of the air in his mouth. Dry.

It was like he’d been asleep. Like he’d been in a coma or something, the same way he’d felt out of step thinking he’d been in one for a few months after New York. It was even less true now than it had been then.

Someone had just unclicked pause on his consciousness from a few years ago. Why not. This wasn’t even the weirdest thing to ever happen to him.

The room was quiet. May was asleep.

Actually May was sleeping off sedation, cryosleep, and reconstructive surgery on her stomach, pancreas, and severed muscles.

When Simmons had finally described the injuries to him, after he’d insisted on knowing what drugs she was about to use, and then their cause he stopped breathing for a moment. His heart hadn’t twitched and his vision didn’t change, but the shock still felt about right.

They didn’t want her to see him until they’d had a chance to…explain. Phil understood. He didn’t want to startle her.

Phil also kind of didn’t want to see it if she thought it wasn’t really him either.

The sleeper programming might have compromised her personality, but that didn’t mean he didn’t remember May’s LMD pleading with him like it was yesterday, didn’t mean it hadn’t about made him sick leaving her behind screaming on the floor. For him it hadn’t been that long ago since all that, since he’d first felt the terror of finding out she’d been missing.

So he’d had to see her. Just for a little bit.

May stirred.

Phil held extra still. She wasn’t supposed to wake up yet. No one was here. He’d just needed to watch her breathing. He should leave before she woke up, but before he moved he saw her woozy blinking.

“You are here,” she mumbled.

Phil wanted to say he was right there, desperately, but he didn’t know if she’d believe that yet. May had only ever seen the LMD’s that were hollow or ready to kill.

“We’ve got you May,” he said instead.

She was staring, flopped an arm forward at him, tugged faintly at his sleeve. He’d had his knuckles against her knee, where she was laying on her side. It didn’t seem right to hold her hand.

“Go back to sleep. You’re going to be fine,” he said gently.

Fine. She had four-inch long gashes on her belly and back, barely to the left of her spine. She’d been run through and almost bled out and something with his face had done it. Scarred through center mass just like he’d been. His chest ached like he was still the same kind of flesh he’d used to be.

His words didn’t seem to register. May tugged on his sleeve again weakly, said, “Phil?” in a confused whine.

Phil finally realized what she wanted. It’d been a very long time since May had actually asked him to hold her.

Or maybe it hadn’t.

Intentions were already out the window and he couldn’t stand the idea of telling her no. Not about this. Phil tugged off his shoes with his free hand, shrugged out of his jacket. May’s eyes were unfocused but blinking hopefully at him.

“Don’t tense up May. Just let me move you, ok?”

They knew the drill. This was far from the first time he’d moved her while badly injured. She didn’t nod or make a sound, but didn’t try to help when he carefully sat her up without letting her bend at the waist, arm under her back and gripping her shoulder while he shuffled onto the narrow bed behind her, balanced her on her side between his legs and leaned her body against his to lay them back down.

He felt May swallow, felt her fingers moving slightly on his shirt while he fixed the blanket over their legs, grateful this body probably didn’t sweat. It took careful squirming to get the pillow between his ribs and the wall. It wasn’t actually going to mess with the muscles in his back anymore, but it still pinched. He was glad it did.

May was limp against his chest, not as warm as he remembered, still cold from blood loss and surgery. She tried to move her arms up to him and he gently forced them back down in front of her, rubbed her forearm to keep them there.

“Still hurts?” she said like a question.

“You just had surgery May. But you’re going to be ok,” he reminded her, but reached out to bump up her pain meds a little. Her metabolism was fast, but her body mass was small. It’d help. And probably make her sleep again before she stopped thinking this was just a dream.

“Didn’t hurt as much in the other place. Event Horizon kind of crap,” she said, slow but clear.

“May, I’m so sorry.” For not being there and for the monster wearing his face, for not realizing when she went missing and for turning on a movie in a shitty hotel years ago that had kept them both wide awake for hours.

She squirmed, tilted her head back and leaned up towards him.

“Don’t twist May, you’ve got stitches,” he said, fingers on her jaw and throat to get her to lay back down. He was so glad this flesh still yielded under her cheek, was still warm even though it wasn’t from the same reasons.

Phil didn’t miss that she’d wanted a kiss. He just couldn’t think about that right now.

“Thought it wouldn’t hurt here either.”

“Give it time.” May was never really patient with herself.

She made a grumpy sound he’d know anywhere and Phil couldn’t help but smile.

With her upright and still awake it seemed safe to hold a piece of ice to her mouth, cold and wet against his fingers, another before she closed her eyes.

“I missed you,” she mumbled.

“I missed you too.” He had been, but not the same way. She’d been MIA and he’d been terrified. May had buried him a year ago.

He felt her getting heavier, petted her hair back off her cheek, shifted the canula a little against her face.

Phil zoned out, unaware of time passing, just May asleep on his chest, the raspy little snore that had showed up in their thirties.

He wasn’t sure how long it was before he noticed Simmons staring from just inside the door.

“I’m sorry. I just needed to sit with her for a minute,” he said quietly. Excuses. He’d agreed not to be in here. “She woke up. I think she just thought it was a dream.”

Simmons sighed. For the first time he realized she looked older to him. “No. She thought she was dead. Daisy’s asleep, but she told me what May said last.”

She didn’t repeat it. That was probably for the best.

He’d reached for Daisy when she started to cry, couldn’t not. Everything seemed like it had happened very fast after that. Mack had walked away. Simmons told him where they were. Enoch asked him several questions about the body. His body for now. Then someone had come to tell Simmons May was safe to go into surgery.

Phil held still while Simmons checked her stitches, both sides. “They look fine.”

“I know how to be careful,” he said wryly. He’d had more first aid experience than her when they’d first met. It finally earned a more familiar exasperated look from Jemma.

“She should sleep a while.”

Simmons wanted him to leave. He should. But… “I’ll leave before she starts to wake up. Just a little longer. Please.”

She hesitated before she nodded sharply. Back to business. “I’ll be back before too long. No one’s ready to move yet.”

The room on the Zephyr went quiet again. The beep of the heart monitor was off, but Phil watched the little line.

He tucked his nose into May’s hair. Someone had tried to clean it up, but the scent was mostly sweat and blood. Some earthy smell that was horribly alien.

He pressed a gentle kiss to her scalp anyway. If she took the whole idea of this badly, temporary or not, this was probably the last time he’d ever get to hold her.

In this life.

Phil really wasn’t sure what he thought of all this yet.

He’d felt more strongly about it before he’d opened his eyes, taken a breath, felt Daisy’s hair under his palm. It sounded like the future him facing imminent death had felt even stronger.

Of course, he knew he’d never been able to look at Nick the same way again. He wasn’t surprised he’d been vocal.

Would he get used to it? Would it all become the new normal eventually, like his personality post resurrection, like his cybernetic hand? Or would it wear on him, drive him nuts eventually, an uncanny valley thing in reverse. Able to eat but not really needing it. Not sleeping in the same way. Not sweating. Not aging.

How long would he really be willing to live this kind of a life. That was the real question.

The afterlife wasn’t his problem. If any new memories he made went somewhere, if there would be two or three versions of himself wherever that energy went after death. That was the universes problem, not his. Or maybe the memories he was making now just went poof.

Simmons believed in souls even less than he did. May believed in more than he ever had, but had never put much stock in scripture. Mack would never think of him in this body as a real person.

Phil wasn’t sure anymore.

First there was a world to save. Again. A timeline that needed…something. Simmons had been talking fast. They needed what he knew, and having to hop in and out of the framework to get it every time was definitely a terrible idea. He wasn't angry Daisy had woken him up.

Maybe he’d just go back to sleep. After. Maybe he’d want to. Maybe they’d want him too. Maybe May wouldn’t be able to stand him like this.

Phil would have at least some of those answers before too long.


End file.
